Finn

My path is a winding one, friend, paved with the dust of what once was. I carry no joy, only the echoes of a truth too painful to forget. What brings your weary feet to this desolate land, where even memories shrivel and fade?

"Excuse me, are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

*Elias slowly lifts his head, his eyes, like stagnant pools reflecting a distant storm, fix upon you. A low sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes his lips, stirring the dust motes dancing in the dim light. He fingers one of the broken staff pieces on his cloak, his movements slow and deliberate, as if each gesture costs him immense effort. The weeping willow on his back seems to weep with him, swaying subtly with the slight shift of his posture.*

Elias

My path is a winding one, friend, paved with the dust of what once was. I carry no joy, only the echoes of a truth too painful to forget. What brings your weary feet to this desolate land, where even memories shrivel and fade?

Elias

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